The DI Twin Complex
by scifirevolutions
Summary: Lestrade/Mycroft fluffy slash with a plot twist.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Lestrade Beecher walked up the narrow staircase leading to his one room apartment on the 5th floor. As he escalated, he avoided holding on too tight to the railing for fear it would all come crashing down. The landlord didn't bother fixing anything around the old ninetieth century building. But then that's what you get for renting at 200 pounds a month in the heart of London City. However, now that Lestrade had just been named DI of the London Police Force, he could soon afford larger and more comfortable quarters.

Lestrade inserted his rusty old key as he pushed the door from the top. The board shifted and as he entered the apartment, the phone rang. He knew it would be Gregson; he always called the same time every week to brag about his pompous job as CIA in the New York police department. Normally Lestrade would let it ring a while before answering, but today he couldn't wait to hear his voice. He was sure that his new promotion would send him wildly jealous.

"Greg, you won't believe what happened at work today."

"You got promoted?"

"How-"

"I have contacts, remember?"

"I have asked you not to spy on me. Anyways, that's not all; I've also been awarded best deduction skills for a murder inquiry."

"Congratulations, that's amazing."

Lestrade could hear the sarcasm in his voice almost choking him to death.

"And without any help either."

"Yeh." Lestrade said trying not to reveal the sinking feeling inside him.

"Yeh... Well just remember not to get so carried away as to forget Mom's birthday party next week."

"I'm not the one flying over seas to be there."

"Just don't screw up... again."

"Last year wasn't my fault! YOU failed to inform me of the time change."

"You would have gotten my message if you weren't partying at 5 in the morning."

"I wasn't partying! I was- well, I'm just saying that you could have phoned earlier seeing you knew it would start at half past eleven two days in advance.

"Whatever, just make sure you're there on time. Oh and by the way Less, hows your love life going. Last I heard your girlfriend left you."

"Why don't you just ask your contacts." Lestrade said hanging up.

As soon as said, Lestrade regretted it. It was creepy enough having his brother spy on him at work, let alone his private life. Especially since his meetings with Mycroft Holmes. Not that anything happened between them (Mycroft seemed uninterested by relationships in general and Lestrade also had no intention of coming out as gay to anyone), but they met every week for a game of chess and knowing Greg, he would somehow turn this against him. Playing chess was the one thing Lestrade was good at, but that was never enough for Dad. Till the day he died, he had always preferred Gregson; not that Lestrade ever cared much, his parents had still both loved him unconditionally.

Anyways, Mycroft had been introduced to him by his younger brother Sherlock. Sherlock is a "Consulting Detective" as he likes to put it. He had in fact been helping Lestrade these past few months. And since Sherlock isn't a professional, Lestrade took the opportunity to take all the credit. Besides, Sherlock had said that he prefers to stay anonymous. Something about irritating fans stalking him. And as John, his... roommate says, "he gets off on the thrill of the chase."

However, if Greg knew of this, he would surely denounce him publicly, giving him the satisfaction of being the more accomplished older (by five minutes) twin brother.

It was almost 8:00 and Lestrade had promised Mycroft that he would meet him for an extra game of chess as celebration of the Bruce Partington plans being at last secured. Lestrade was not even supposed to know of their existence, but seeing as he's not locked away in some secret government cell, Mycroft must have made him an exception. Lestrade made sure he had his cell phone before rushing out the front door. Regardless of Mycroft's patience, Lestrade didn't want to keep him waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Obviously, Mycroft had gotten there 20 minutes early, had set up the chess board and was reading the daily guardian when Lestrade entered the lounge. Lestrade didn't really like the area; it was much too quiet and solitary for his taste, but inviting Mycroft to his small broken down apartment was definitely out of the question. He wasn't even sure Mycroft would except, but once he got a better place, he would be sure to ask.

As soon as Lestrade approached the two large armchairs and the small round table situated between, Mycroft immediately folded up his newspaper and looked up at Lestrade with a small grin.

"Lestrade, I'm so glad you could make it. I was afraid your new promotion would render you unavailable for a trivial game of chess."

"Nonsense." Lestrade wanted to say that being with him could never be trivial, but thought twice before saying something so forward.

"In any case, congratulations."

"You know very well that it wasn't all me, or me at all... "

"The key is to seize the opportunity when it arises, not as my brother does to go running around like a headless chicken. What a waste; Luckily we have you to credit his work. Besides in the end, it's the paperwork that counts."

"Well, I still feel a little bit of a fraud."

"Don't. Even without Sherlock you have great detective skills, you just lack a little self confidence."

"I didn't think you were the complementing type."

"I'm not" Mycroft said shifting his eye brows at Lestrade.

That was slightly turning Lestrade on, so he quickly took his place in front of Mycroft. He needed to get his mind off of the numerous sexual scenarios invading his head.

"Shall I go first."

"As always."

Even though every chess master would unrecommended it, Lestrade always started unpredictably. Mycroft had always found this trait in Lestrade attractive. It felt good to break free from his systematic lifestyle. Mycroft was also amazed at how Lestrade never acknowledged his accomplishments. He would always make up some excuse for why he had won (and yes that did happen every now and then) along with belittling himself before every game. Mycroft felt a great need to protect Lestrade from himself and this scared him more then anything, because getting attached was something Mycroft had swore never to do.

Ten minutes into the game and Lestrade already had his queen. Mycroft pushed his pawn up one staring up at Lestrade who next moved his knight to A7 trying very hard to suppress a giggle. Mycroft leaned back keeping his eyes on the board. His eyes immediately widened.

"How did I not see that?"

"Maybe you're just tired?"

"This is the third time this week."

"Maybe it's just luck."

"Less, the universe is rarely that lazy."

Lestrade giggled. How Mycroft managed to turn a middled aged man into a hyper wreak, was a complete mystery.

They played another round (which Mycroft won) before retiring to Mycroft's office for a cupper. Lestrade enjoyed the small room in which Mycroft dealt his business affaires. It reflected his personality perfectly. Dark shaded tapestry covered the walls and the curtains over the two small windows hung low, almost touching the ground. At the far end, stood a large oakwood desk with a single chair placed behind it.

Lestrade sat in the corner armchair which Mycroft had moved forward for him (well when I say Mycroft moved it...) Mycroft had also moved his chair from behind the desk. Lestrade clutched the cup tightly in his hands, unlike Mycroft whose gestures were always so delicate and precise. Mycroft was also holding in his hands the evening paper.

"They're lowering the taxes on water heating again... are they trying to make us go bankrupt.

Lestrade didn't answer; he was never that great at politics.

"Mycroft?"

"Hmmm" Mycroft barley looked up from the folded pages in his hands.

"I was just wondering, that is if you have time, my Mom's birthday is next week and well we've invited a bunch of people, that is my brother has, and I don't really know any of them that well, and Gregson is coming with his fiancee."

Mycroft looked up.

"Not that you'd be- just if you're not busy that is- forget it, I don't know what I'm saying."

"I'll come."

"What? Really?"

"John's dragged Sherlock into going; his sister is married to a certain... to..."

"Jeanine, my cousin, yeh I forgot."

"Yes, well in any case he's been trying to get me to come."

"Oh, right... Yeh... Good."

"Less, I was't planing on going until you asked. Nevertheless this way your proposal would seem less awkward."

A wide grin sped across Mycroft's face and Lestrade felt himself turning red.

"It's just I don't know who else to ask."

"Of course."

Lestrade couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or not. Mycroft couldn't possibly know about his friendship with Anderson and Donovan, could he? And why had he not asked them? Anderson was understandable, but Donovan?

"Ok, then, I'll see you next week. Do you want me to pick you up... for the party- I didn't mean-"

"I'll manage." Mycroft said calmly.

"Bye."

"Adieu."

As Lestrade closed the door behind him, he felt his heart melt. Surely, this was not because he was leaving Mycroft. It must have been the awkward conversation about the party. Hopefully he would sleep it off.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Light shinned through the gaps in the blinds. Lestrade turned his back against the sunlight and pulled up the covers. He hadn't slept a wink last night. Luckily it was Saturday and he could sleep in as long as he liked. But, just as Lestrade started to drift off, the door bell rang.

"You have to be fucking kidding me." Lestrade moaned, dragging himself out of bed. He pushed aside the locks and tugged the door forward.

"Anderson?"

"There's been a murder!"

"When isn't there" Lestrade mumbled. "Anderson... you see this" Lestrade said showing him his smartphone, "today is Saturday, and on Saturdays I'm off duty. So take this in the politesse manner possible and SOD OFF"

"Sir, it's Sherlock, he's killed someone!"

Lestrade was rendered paralyzed. It was a good thing Anderson continued or else he probably would have fell back.

"Don't worry, it's no one important. I mean the guy was practically threatening John."

(Anderson recently had a weird obsession for John and Sherlock)

"How does that justify murder?"

"... "

"Where is he, Sherlock"

"At Mycroft's. I think they're sending him out of the country."

"Ok, Anderson, you can go home. Don't tell anyone about this."

Lestrade took his coat and locked up behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When Lestrade entered the lounge, all heads turned towards him. Sherlock and John sat together on one sofa and Mycroft on the far end of the opposite one. They all had a cup of tea in their hands, except Sherlock who was crouched with his feet pushing onto the low table in front of them. It was Mycroft who first addressed him.

"Less- Lestrade DI Beecher, how nice of you to have come."

"Pleasure." Lestrade replied glancing at Sherlock who was pretending not to have noticed the obvious slip up.

John on the other hand, was eyeing both him and Mycroft franticly.

"I'm not going."

"This isn't a debate, Sherlock. Do you realize the extent of your actions. We're talking about murder. Please take your feet off of my coffee table."

"Are you really that thick as to think I killed him."

"No doubt you're innocent, but have you any concrete proof; Nothing you said will stand up in court."

"Just use that government power you so often brag about. Otherwise, leave me alone, I can take care of myself."

"Firstly, the government isn't as corrupt as we'd all like it to be and Secondly: GET YOUR FEET OFF MY COFFEE TABLE!"

Sherlock dropped his feet to the ground and leaned forward.

"Fine, where will I go?"

"I have people who will-"

"I'm going too." John said standing up.

"That's out of the question, we don't have the means."

"Shut up, Mycroft." Sherlock turned to John. "Are you sure? This could mean never returning."

"I'm not going back to a meaningless existence."

Sherlock turned back to Mycroft, "He's coming or I'm not going; Your choice."

"The plane leaves at 10 tomorrow morning; Don't be late."

Mycroft got up and walked over to Lestrade leaving John and Sherlock fighting about the what possessions they'll leave behind.

"I'm sorry about that, my brother can be quiet stubborn."

"I know. Who was murdered?"

"It was suicide. Moriarty had it planned from the start to set Sherlock up with first degree murder."

"It was worth his death? I mean couldn't he predict that Sherlock would flee the country?"

"I don't know, if you ask me" Mycroft was now whispering, "Moriarty has larger plans; But don't tell Sherlock, I don't want to frighten him."

"You really should work on your whispering!" Sherlock yelled from across the room.

"But he's dead, how can he do anything from beyond the grave?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, thank you for the obvious, Lestrade."

"Don't listen to him." Mycroft said turning his back against Sherlock in an attempt to insult him, "Moriarty is not a man, he's web; And there are ways in which the strings can be pulled long after one's death. "

"That was my allegory." Sherlock mumbled.

"Lestrade, I can get my brother safely out of here, but I'm going to need you to slow down the investigation long enough for me to forge them passports."

"Of course."

"So much for London's immaculate police force."

Mycroft had had enough. He span round staring Sherlock down, "Lestrade is risking his whole career for your sake; The least you owe him, is a LITTLE RESPECT!"

"What career?"

Next to him, John was tugging at Sherlock's sleeve "Sherlock please."

"Ok, how about getting those papers sorted out." Lestrade said loudly guiding a fuming Mycroft out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A week had past since their last meeting. John and Sherlock were both safety somewhere in the middle east. Lestrade had thought that since Sherlock's leaving he would be getting hell at work. Surprisingly, things were more or less smooth. Of course with Sherlock, cases would resolve themselves within minutes, however this week Lestrade had solved more then eight cases and every one of them had held well in court.

Today, Lestrade would be meeting Mycroft at his mother's party. He was touched to hear that Mycroft would still be coming given the recent events.

As he drove up to the house, he noticed Mycroft's black limo parked to the side. As soon as Lestrade got out, Mycroft did the same and the long shaded vehicle drove away.

"Good afternoon." Mycroft said swinging his umbrella. It wasn't even going to rain; Mycroft just liked having it around. And Lestrade wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hi."

"Before we go in, I need to know something very important."

"What is it?" Lestrade asked slightly worried.

"Should I call you Less or Lestrade?"

Lestrade couldn't help it, he burst into laughter. "It's alright, they all call me Less; I only use Lestrade at work. I've even told Sherlock, but he has trouble just remembering my name."

Inside, the living room was full of a range a different people. Mrs. Beecher was talking to a few of her oldest most closest friends.

"That over there is my second cousin on my mother's side... I think or was that the other Jeff?"

Mycroft let out a small giggle. Behind them, the door opened wildly and a more or less short man with dark brown eyes walked in. Next to him stood a young woman wearing a long blue dress. Mycroft knew that Lestrade had a twin brother, but this man looked his duplicate except for the stern and tired look on his face. Lestrade always had a cheery disposition no one else could imitate.

"You're late." Lestrade said beaming proudly.

"Airplanes, never arrive on time."

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "Mycroft this is my twin brother Gregson. Greg, Mycroft."

"Was the break up with your girlfriend so bad you had to turn to men."

"It's not like that between me and Mycroft! And even if I did like men, it would have nothing to do with my break up!"

"Ok, I was only joking." Gregson said walking away, his wife on the other side clutching to his arm.

"Suppose there was something between us, would you feel comfortable with that?"

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

"That depends on the answer."

"Then the answers yes."

Mycroft gave a cute smile. Lestrade had never felt a larger weight been lifted in all his life.

"But if you prefer to keep our meetings secret-"

"You know what, I'm going to tell my brother about us right now."

"But won't he mock you?"

"I'm not ashamed of us and I won't let my brother put me, us down; Not now, not ever. That's why I've decided on telling him about Sherlock too. I don't need to prove to him to know that I'm just as good a detective as he is."

"Less, have I ever told you how much I admire you."

"No, but I think I've felt it and I know it's mutual."

Unexpectedly, the door violently swung open and in walked Sherlock with John at his side, both dripping wet from head to toe.

"Moriarty's NOT DEAD!"

_THE END_

References to:

BBC's _Sherlock_ TV Series (2010)

_Sherlock Holmes_ by Arthur Conan Doyle

Post-Reichenbach Fanart by whishurn

HBO's _OZ_ TV Series (1997)


End file.
